


Lifeline

by suallenparker



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, What if …, post 1x17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:06:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1589384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suallenparker/pseuds/suallenparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day Hydra overthrew S.H.I.E.L.D, Melinda May got shot three times. Once by the man she loved, once by a complete stranger and once to safe the love of her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifeline

The third time she got shot yesterday was bad. Not that the first time had been particularly enjoyable. Phil had been so mad. Her stomach tightened just thinking about it. And thanks to the second, she hadn’t lost much aside from her favorite jacket, which was now one sleeve short. Her arm hurt, but it was bearable. The third time she lost blood. A lot of it.

Simmons patched her up in one of these medical rooms. She had to cut away at her jacket as well. At least the whole day had only ruined one of her leather jackets.

Melinda’s whole body hurt but with that she could live. She felt dizzy, which was annoying, but that she would survive as well. Surviving was the one thing she was really good at. Living, on the other hand, not so much.

After Bahrain she had been a terrible mess. A skeleton of her former self. A broken soul in a healthy body.

Phil had brought her back. He became her lifeline. First she hadn’t been able to cry. She hadn’t been able to feel. She had just been … empty. A shell. But he had talked to her. He had stayed close. Then, when the grief came, he held her while she cried. She found sleep and in his arms that one night. The first time she slept after what had happened.

And he had never abandoned her.

Later, as she had fled to that desk job and he returned to the field, he called her regularly. Once a week, sometimes twice, depending on how busy he was. Sometimes they just exchanged a few words, sometimes they talked for hours. He talked. She just listened to his voice. His life. She was happy when he found Audrey. And she felt relief because it meant she could bury one more hope of hers. She could bury her love for him as the silly notion that it was.

They were the bestest friends.

And then he died.

The first two days after she heard about his death were kind to her. She felt nothing. Nothing at all. Of course she didn’t sleep. The third day, she sat on her desk and thought that maybe today he might call. She made it to the bathroom before she started to cry. The following week she stayed with her mother, which said it all, really.

Then Fury called. And she got a second chance.

He was so mad at her, but he’d live with that and that was most important. He’d survive.

Yesterday, when Garrett had shot at him, she had pushed him aside. Phil might hate her now but she was still good enough to safe his life. That she could do. The bullet hit her instead. A clean shot right through her left kidney. It hurt like hell.

It still hurt now that she was trying to switch the bandages. It was too lose. She needed something that would offer her more support so she could work on the bus. She stood in front of the cupboards of one of the medical rooms in the Hub. She groaned when she stretched out her arm to reach the antiseptic on the top shelf.

“What are you doing?” asked Phil sharply from behind.

She turned around and groaned again. She hadn’t heard him coming in, but there he was, walking towards her. He glared at her, his whole body was tense, his hands clenched into fists. That hurt more than her wound.

She swallowed and turned back to finally get the antiseptic. She had already collected fresh bandages, cotton balls and band aids on the counter. “I’m switching the bandages,” she said. “I can’t work with these.”

His glare intensified and he took the antiseptic from her. His lips pressed together, he gestured her to sit on a stool. She wished he would leave, but didn’t dare to send him away. At least he didn’t avoid her. She wished he’d stay too.

So she followed his suggestions and sat down. Looking over his right shoulder she took off her jacket. Underneath she wore a black sports bra and white bandages.

When she loosened the tape, he covered her hands with his. His hand was gentle. His hands were always gentle. She dropped her arms to her sides and kept staring at the wall while he cut off the bandages with a scissor. It went much faster like that. And it hurt less. She felt stupid. He peeled the bandages from her body and cleaned the wound. She wondered how his actions could stay so gentle as she watched him grew more and more angry with every move he made. He didn’t look at her but just at what he was doing. By the time he applied the new bandage, he was fuming.

She sighed. “Phil.”

“Don’t ever do that again!” he hissed and wrapped the bandage around her waist.

She felt ridiculous with her arms raised above her head. “I -”

For the fist time since he started, his hands stopped moving. “Don’t you _ever_ take a bullet for me again, you hear me?”

“You’d be dead.”

“I was dead!” He glared at her and dropped the bandage, his hands flinging in the air. “I should be dead!”

“Phil -”

“You don’t take bullets for a dead guy!”

“Shut up!” She slammed her hand against her thigh. “Shut up!” she yelled again. His eyes widened.

“You think this is your second chance?” she asked with tears in her eyes. One escaped. She wiped it away angrily. “It’s mine! And I will take every damn bullet I want! You’re not gonna die on me again!” How could he not understand this?

“Another order from Fury?” he asked and lifted his chin. His hands clenched again. How could he miss the point so completely?

“Damn you, Phil.”

He glared. “Tell me, what is so important about me? Why do I matter so much?”

“I love you!”

He froze and gasped for air. “Excuse me?”

“I love you.” She couldn’t handle the way he looked at her, like she had betrayed him all over again. So she looked down. “I can’t stop,” she mumbled. She picked up the bandage and smoothed it out.

She wished he’d just leave. Fighting her tears got harder and she didn’t want to cry in front of him. He just stared at her.

“I’ll handle the rest myself,” she said and pressed her lips together. He needed to leave now!

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him shake his head. “Let me think,” he said.

“Please …”

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” he asked quietly. “The night you told me to unbutton the shirt?”

She stared at the floor. If she’d blink, her tears would fall. “Because I kept the secret,” she said, “because I knew you’d hate me. I was right.”

He sighed. “I don’t hate you.”

She pressed her lips together.

“You can’t leave me,” he said. “You can’t. You’re not allowed to.” He took the bandage from her hands and their fingers brushed against each other.

She looked up. He still looked tense and exhausted. But he didn’t look mad. Just … what? He taped up the bandage and she raised her arms again, so he could apply a second one, made out of a blue, stretchy material, made to give support. And she waited. After he secured it, he touched her elbows and moved her arms downward. Then his hands glided over her upper arms to her shoulders.

She whimpered. Her fingernails dug into her palms so deep, it hurt. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but didn’t dare to, afraid he’d reject her again.

He took a breath. “You’re not dying before me,” he said. He caressed her arms, her shoulders, her neck. “I love you and you’re not allowed to die for me, understood?”

No. “What?”

“I love you.” He cradled her face. And again, “I love you.” He kissed her gently. Just a short brush of his lips against hers. She placed her hands on his hips and sighed. He kissed her again and she felt dizzy.

“You’re not allowed to die,” he said.

She had her lifeline back.


End file.
